Lillia and Reeve

Look me in the eyes

Over the ensuing weeks, Reeve slowly started to infiltrate every aspect of her life. BC wasn't even a small college, and yet it looked like Reeve knew no other places than the ones Lillia frequented. Sproul Coffee House. She found him studying by the window, chewing a pen in his mouth. The Great Lawn. She spotted him lying on his back, sunbathing his already tan skin. Even the library– she couldn't even study knowing he was only two rows over, drumming his feet against the desk.

And that wasn't the worst part. Her friends all adored him, and slowly he started entering her social circle as well. First studying with Katie, and then he got frozen yogurt with Linda, and then before she knew it he was at their kickback, laughing and throwing his feet up on the coffee table as if he belonged there. He did. Belong there. He fit in with any place he chose to be. He hadn't lost that way of being.

Drew was her only ally. While all her friend converted to the dark side and fawned over Reeve, Drew rolled his eyes and kept to himself. When Reeve showed up at a joint study session, Drew promptly left, muttering a weak excuse and leaving Lillia to fend for herself. She didn't know why she was so angry exactly– Reeve was allowed to be friends with whomever he wanted– but she couldn't ignore the bubbling of resentment that filled her stomach every time he laughed with Katie or licked yogurt off of Brittney's spoon.

Everyone loved him. And he loved everyone. Except her.

After the first day, he had barely spoken two words to her. They'd scarcely made eye contact, though they now shared the same friends too. It wasn't fair; she'd been there longer. They should've been loyal to her. But it was all in her head. They didn't even know they were choosing sides.

Of course they weren't choosing sides. She wasn't fighting with Reeve.

But it felt like it sometimes.

She'd forgone a joint study session in the coffee house to go to the library instead. She didn't even have many assignments, but work kept her mind occupied. Now, she was scratching her pencil angrily into her notebook, when the paper ripped.

With a sigh of exasperation, she threw the pencil on the table.

"Trying to break something, Cho?"

She looked up to see Reeve saunter towards her, lazy as a cat.

"Ever heard of anger therapy?" he grinned, sliding into the chair across from her.

"Yes. I tried to sign you up but they said they didn't take arrogant jerks."

He put a hand to his heart, as if she'd wounded him. "You're feisty today, Cho." He grinned, and she knew they were both remembering. "I like feisty."

She met his gaze for one heated moment, and then she saw his eyes go soft. He leaned forward–

"I can't do this," she whispered, pushing her chair back and shoving all her belongings into her messenger bag.

"Wait, Cho." He grabbed her arm from over the table.

She looked down at his hand. Every nerve seemed to light up where he touched her. She wondered if he could feel her pulse, pounding through her wrist.

He let go. "I just– can we talk?"

She hesitated, unsure. "We're talking."

He sighed, long and loose. "Why are you mad at me?"

"Why am I?" she asked, incredulous. His audacity knew no ends.

He nodded, radiating confidence. In that moment, she wanted to break it.

"You want to talk to everyone but me. You want to befriend everyone but me. You smile and laugh and act so easy and carefree and yet you ignore me– you won't even look me in the eyes! Tell me, why would I be mad?"

He stared at her, eyes round. "What?" he exclaimed, then lowered his voice. "You've been the one avoiding me– ignoring me! I tried–"

"You tried to steal my friends–"

"I tried to be friends with your friends!" He threw up his hands in the air. "Is that a crime now? Are they off-limits too? Or is it only your precious boyfriend who you don't want to associate–"

"That's it." She pushed her chair back. The wooden legs screeched against the tiles. "I don't need this. Especially from you."

She stormed away.

"Lillia, wait!"

She heard footsteps pounding up behind her, but she didn't stop. Breathing fast, he grabbed her hand. "You forgot your bag," he said roughly, holding it out to her.

She looked at it, then at him. "Thanks."

"Can we just– can we try again?" he asked, rubbing his jaw. "I just want to be friends."

"Oh, now you want to be friends?"

He nodded. "That's all I'm looking for. I– I like you in my life, Cho. As a friend."

"Nothing more," she said, her eyes narrowed. He nodded again.

She missed him too. It was hard to admit, but now, standing before him, watching his chest rise and fall with his breaths, it was impossible to lie to herself. She missed him; she liked him. She liked him as a human being. It'd be nice to have him around– to have his jokes, his easy demeanor, even his cocky arrogance.

"Okay," she said.

"Really?" His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

She snorted, and hitched her bag higher up her shoulder. "But with ground rules," she told him, starting to walk. He followed alongside her. "No flirting."

"Absolutely. I'll be a saint."

She couldn't help it; she giggled. "No mentioning the past."

He drew a check mark in the air.

"And no questions about Drew."

"I don't want to talk about him anyway," Reeve grinned. Lillia felt her heart stutter at that look.

"Okay, deal." She stuck out her hand. He took it, and they shook. Was it just her, or did his hand linger just a bit?

"See you... later?"

"I'll text you," he said.

"You still have my number?"

"I'll never delete you, Cho," he said over his shoulder as he sauntered away. She stared at his back, then turned around.

Friends. Okay. She could do friends.